By Definition
by StarTrekFanWriter
Summary: A response to a prompt: "Love by definition is illogical." Pre-Movie. Spock/Uhura pre-romance.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock or Nyota**

Special thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom

Response to a prompt I saw somewhere: "Love, by definition, is illogical."

**By Definition...**

The sun was warm on Nyota's back as she sat at the small courtyard table of the cafe near Starfleet Academy. Across from her sat Lieutenant Spock.

Nyota stared down at her PADD, comprehension dawning. Looking up at her former instructor Nyota said, "It's a Vulcan love poem."

Putting his elbows on the table, Spock steepled his hands in a graceful feline motion. "Indeed," he said.

Nyota swallowed; she hated when she noticed just how attractive he was. She was a cadet, he was an instructor...she had to keep that in mind. The subject matter of the nearly two-thousand year old verse before her was not helping matters. Discussing love poetry with the gorgeous, untouchable, emotionally unavailable director of your assistantship was not a wise strategy when trying to keep your emotions in check. But she had not realized the piece was a love poem. It was written in an ancient colloquial style Nyota had been completely unfamiliar with. She'd brought it to Spock's attention in the lab and he'd suggested they explore it over tea together.

At least while drinking tea they had the table between them. If they'd reviewed this together in the lab, Spock might have sat next to her, his arm might have brushed hers when he reached over to highlight a word with a stylus, the smell of him, copper and soap would have flooded her senses...

Yes. Good they were out in open air, where people could see them.

"The author, T'Dali, was she V'tosh ka'tur?" Nyota asked.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Although T'Dali was accused by some of being without logic, she declared herself a true follower of Surak."

"That would seem a difficult position to defend. Love is, by its definition, illogical...at least to Vulcans," Nyota said.

Turning his gaze downward to the cup of tea in front of him, Spock said very quietly, "It would depend on context."

Nyota blinked and felt an unaccountable shiver run through her body. "I...don't necessarily disagree...but I am curious as to how a Vulcan would justify love...logically."

Spock looked at her. "Love, in Standard, is a frustratingly vague word. Humans toss it about quite liberally. I have heard you say you love this cafe, and their chai tea."

"A bit of hyperbole," said Nyota, "Used to spice up conversation for dramatic effect."

"Just so," Spock replied. "I do find the hyperbole illogical."

"But you don't point it out every time I indulge," Nyota said, tilting her head. "Thank you."

"We are on Earth; it is a human mannerism. When in Rome --" He arched an eyebrow.

"Do as the Romans do? I haven't heard you using the same sort of hyperbole, sir," Nyota said.

"I was going to say when in Rome tolerate the speaking of Italian," Spock said.

Nyota winced. He'd been experimenting with humor lately. She suspected he enjoyed it as just another intellectual exercise. Not all of his attempts were succesful. "Bad joke, sir."

Spock tilted his head. "Thank you for your frank assessment. But back to the topic at hand. There are, of course, other types of love. Familial love, for instance. It is not experienced only by humans. Nyota, have you seen holovids of Earth's large predators interacting with their young?"

"Of course, every child sees the holovid of the lion with its cubs crawling over it and pulling its tail."

"And the explanation of the lion's tolerance for abuse from its young is?" Spock asked.

"Killing one's young for pulling your tail isn't a successful evolutionary strategy. The lion tolerates the abuse so it can pass its genes along and achieve evolutionary success," said Nyota.

"But, Nyota," Spock replied. looking her in the eye and using her first name in a way that made her stomach quake. "Lions are not familiar with Darwin and evolutionary theory. They do not retaliate against their young because their young trigger a neuro-cascade in their brains that evokes feelings of affection and protectiveness."

"Familial love," said Nyota.

"Yes," said Spock. "A very successful and logical evolutionary adaptation."

Nyota tapped her PADD. "This isn't familial love...Spock." She almost called him sir again, but stopped herself. They had agreed to address each other without rank when they were alone.

"True, but...I would argue that it is not so different. Among humans, individuals with a long term partner tend to live longer and be healthier. They also tend to be able to better provide for offspring..."

Nyota cleared her throat, tapped the PADD again, and said in a hushed voice, "The poem refers, rather explicitly, to passion involved in long-term relationship...not to nagging one's husband to go to the doctor when his cold doesn't clear up after two weeks."

Acknowledging her point with a nod, Spock responded. "Passion in a long term relationship is another logical evolutionary adaptation. It has health benefits for both partners. In both humans and Vulcans it can help strengthen the marital bond -- the neuro-chemical mechanisms are different, but the end effect is the same."

Nyota sat up straighter. "I find your argument very logical...but I am surprised to hear it from a Vulcan."

Looking her directly in the eye again, Spock said, "Vulcans have emotions. We just restrain them. Love itself is not illogical, in these and some other specific situations – friendship, for instance. It is what we do with our emotions that is logical or illogical."

Nyota looked down as his voice trailed off.

He began to speak slowly. "For instance, acting on impulse of one's affection for another when it could cause them harm, be it harm of a physical or emotional nature...or in a way that would damage their reputations."

Nyota took a deep breath. Just ignore the connotations of that last statement, Cadet, he does not mean it that way. She raised her eyes, hoping to see some readable expression on his face, but Spock was not looking at her; he was taking the bill from the waitress.

Surveying the tiny slip of paper he said evenly, "This is my treat, of course."

**A/N:**  
Thank you for reading. This does fit into my Descartes Error timeline...if you want to see how they finally got together.

It is not at all illogical to show fanfic writers and their betas some love by leaving a review! It keeps us writin'.


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